Word Count :: 324; backdated to September 25.

The coal-shaded woman meandered through the streets of the city, having no particular purpose in mind to drive her forward. She had been a good girl in the past few weeks, spending most of her time around the mansion. She had been able to avoid the hell out of Halo and pretty much everyone else; the sable coyote could not recall clearly an in-depth conversation she had over the past few weeks. Itzcitla had been her primary companionship, and the coyote suspected his closeness was due primarily to the cold. He was always trying to climb into her lap, and the green-eyed woman figured it was about time to find a proper winter jacket for him. It didn't matter how ridiculous it looked; she could have dressed him in fluorescent pink, and the feline would only notice the sudden added warmth.

Halifax was the natural destination for the Equites, who had learned most of the milestones during her last sojourn outside of the clan territory. She wasn't well-versed enough to go cavorting off everywhere now, but she at least knew her way to the city and back. She had been here only a handful of times, and she could not navigate the streets well enough yet to risk coming in the darkness. It was early afternoon by the time she had reached the outskirts of the city, and now the sun was dipping lower toward the horizon, signifying she ought to move on if she wanted to find her way out of here before morning. Still, she had not found what she had come looking for just yet; cloth was hard to come by, it seemed, and as she was nothing of a seamstress, the sable coyote had to find the perfectly-sized garmet to fit her thirty-pound cat. It had not occurred to her to seek a human child's clothing store; she had inspected only adult stores adult-sized departments within larger stores thus far.